


Winding

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-13 18:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15370800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Lindir knows Elrond needs a breather.





	Winding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [peasantswhy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peasantswhy/gifts).



> A/N: Fill for Peasantswhy’s “Elrondir [kiss to give up control]” request on [my tumblr prompt list](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/176075204220/prompt-list).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It’s a whole month before the last of their guests are gone—the Lady Galadriel, Mithrandir and Saruman, even King Thranduil, though Lindir isn’t sure who summoned him. Not a single member of the White Council came alone, and Saruman’s cruel-eyed followers were almost as troublesome as Thranduil’s drunken party. Lothlórien’s visitors were mostly pleasant, but Lindir’s certain that more than one of the dwarves that bustled into Imladris were there at Mithrandir’s invitation. By the time everyone has cleared out, Lindir can tell that his lord Elrond is _exhausted_.

Erestor and Lindir work tirelessly to return their land to normal. The guard resumes its regular patrol, reporting a blissful lack of travelers on the horizon, and Lindir takes care of every little thing he can think of, wanting not a single broken dish to be brought to Elrond’s attention. That first day that they’re free again, Lindir barely sees his lord, because he’s so very busy doing everything he can to make sure that _Elrond_ doesn’t have to.

When the night finally rolls in, bringing a peaceful cool and the welcome light of the stars, Lindir wonders if his lord’s invitation still stands. They were to share a night when all was said and done, because they’ve had so very little time together amongst the passing weeks. Lindir doubts his lord will have much energy for any further company, but he heads to Elrond’s quarters nonetheless. He would like, at least, to run a bath, and maybe offer a massage: anything he can to help his lord unwind. Lindir so often brings those little niceties to his lord that he’s no longer required to knock, but tonight, he does so anyway.

Elrond’s deep voice wafts tiredly through the wood, bidding him, “Come in.”

Lindir does so with the quietest of footsteps. He shuts the door securely behind him when he’s finished, and he turns to see his lover seated at the window, peering out along the flowering courtyards. Imladris is a lovely place, loveliest when it’s at rest, free of a pulsing, overflowing crowd trampling every petal. Lindir comes to stand before his lord but doesn’t dare get _too_ close—he doesn’t want to detract from the beauty of the window.

Even tired, Elrond is every bit as beautiful. Lindir enjoys his handsome profile until the wait becomes too much, and then Lindir asks, “My lord?”

Elrond lets out a weary sigh. He admits, “I need respite from being _lord_.”

For a moment, Lindir swells with sympathy—he can only imagine how difficult it must be to govern so many, and to do so as wisely and well as Lord Elrond. Then his breath hitches, because a memory stirs inside him, and he wonders if it will be one of _those_ nights.

Sure enough, Elrond turns to look at him, then shifts smoothly off the bench and down onto the floor. Lindir’s frozen, mesmerized, as his beloved lord kneels reverently before him. Elrond carefully removes the circlet that doubles as his crown. He sets it behind him on the window seat, while his brilliant eyes stay focused on Lindir. 

It takes Lindir’s breath away. Elrond always does, but moments like this, where Elrond displays so much love and trust in him, are almost more than Lindir can bear. Elrond reaches for one of Lindir’s hands and gently takes it in both of his, then lifts it to his mouth to brush a kiss across the back. It’s chaste but _powerful_. Lindir recognizes the surrender.

Lindir murmurs softly, “Get on the bed, my _Elrond_.” The lack of title is significant. A small smile graces Elrond’s lips, and his eyes glint with gratitude—once again, Lindir’s proven willing to give whatever Elrond needs.

Like the perfect lover he always is, Elrond rises to obey.


End file.
